poetic discharge

Fog around me thickens with a crickets song in the dewy grass,

the night mist still in the air as I wander in the dead silent night with my only companion.

More thoughts running amok in my head,

and I still can't sleep even with the crickets lullaby.

The shadows in the trees almost leering at me,

with faceless gaunt people at my disposal.

A heart beat and with one minor flashback to save me,

and yet I've seen strange times than these.

Maybe its just poetic discharge,

only suddenly do I realize,

only when your in the shadows do you not see yours or any other.

Just the black over shadow and a slight illumination.

Dense and thick around me,

covering and smothering.

My pace quickens,

my body tightens and my mind races.

Something eerie about the fog,

perhaps simple what lays beyond.

I'll still wander though,

as if I'll get some where,

past these dreadful thoughts and memories and simple tendencies.